


Silent Night

by TurnIt0ff



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: 12daysofBOM, And then... decidedly NOT baking, Baking, Christmas, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, NSFW, Porn, Praise Kink, Smut, Teasing, because hey, but kind of with fluff?, it's christmas afterall, this is just... porn, without plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnIt0ff/pseuds/TurnIt0ff
Summary: So, uh... yeah lmao. Read the tags.12 Days of BOM, Day 2.The prompt was to pick your favorite McPriceley/BOM trope and run away with it... and boy, did I run. I chose to combine my two favorite legendary BOM tropes, which are: 1) the infamous Midnight Mission-Kitchen Escapades and 2) Kevin's (frankly undeniable) praise kink.Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley & Kevin Price
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24
Collections: 12 Days of Book of Mormon (2020)





	Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh... yeah lmao. Read the tags. 
> 
> 12 Days of BOM, Day 2.
> 
> The prompt was to pick your favorite McPriceley/BOM trope and run away with it... and boy, did I run. I chose to combine my two favorite legendary BOM tropes, which are: 1) the infamous Midnight Mission-Kitchen Escapades and 2) Kevin's (frankly undeniable) praise kink. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.

“Are you trying to make cookies right now?” 

Connor stood with one eyebrow raised in the doorway of the mission hut’s kitchen, watching Kevin stare back at him wearing nothing but his navy blue boxer-briefs, Connor’s t-shirt, and a metric-shit-ton of loose flour. The clock to his left read 12:43 a.m. 

Kevin dropped the wooden spoon he was holding like a piece of incriminating evidence to the counter. “Would you believe me if I said ‘no?’”

Connor glanced from the tray of disgraceful attempts at what he thought was supposed to be Christmas-tree-shaped sugar cookies, back to his powder-covered face. “No.”

“Well then, yes,” Kevin said. _“Trying,_ being the key word.”

Taking a step further into the kitchen to inspect the absolute war crime that was occuring on the cookie sheet, Connor crossed his arms over his chest. “I feel like there’s an obvious question here,” he commented. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Kevin shrugged, waving Connor off when his expression turned briefly to one of concern. “Nothing earth-shattering, don’t worry,” he assured him. “Just the natural consequences of drinking two cups of coffee past seven p.m.”

Connor nodded, quietly relieved that it wasn’t the nightmares that had plagued him consistently for so many months. And while, perhaps, there was some correlation to be drawn between the late-night coffee binges and the intentional avoidance of sleep, that could be a conversation for a different day, and they would take the small wins where they could. 

“So… cookies, then?” Connor asked, pinching a piece of the dough from the mixing bowl and watching it run down his fingers in some defiance of natural physics.

“It’s a bit more akin to some kind of... brown sugar soup, at this point?” Kevin sighed. “Have I mentioned I’ve never baked cookies before?”

“The proof is in the pudding, babe. Or, you know… in the soup, as it were.” He wiped the remnants of “cookie dough” onto the rag on the counter. “So, why now?”

Kevin sighed again, a bit more dramatically this time. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he pouted, pushing his glasses up his nose and leaving another flour-print where his finger touched the rim. “I heard James telling Chris about how he and his mom used to decorate Christmas cookies every year, and after everyone was so bummed out last year on Christmas, I thought I’d do something special to make sure we all have a better one this year.”

Connor followed his lamented gaze down to the cookie graveyard between them. “Well,” he tried and failed to come up with something encouraging to say. “It, uh. Certainly is special.”

He snorted a laugh. “Maybe I’ll take the bus to the market tomorrow morning with Naba and see if I can find some, like, actual pre-made cookies. Nobody needs to know where they came from.”

Leaning one hip against the counter, Connor watched as Kevin carried the giant mixing bowl to the trash can, scraping out as much of the contents as he could. “I feel bad for wasting all this,” he frowned, setting the empty bowl in the sink. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s a total waste,” Connor snagged his hand as he walked back to the counter, lacing their fingers together. “You do look awfully cute all covered in flour.”

“Yeah?” Kevin wiggled his eyebrows like a dork before proceeding to shake his mop of hair out, sending flour and sugar flying into the air. “Thanks,” he beamed. He reached for the smaller bowl next to the spoon, filled with some sort of white frosting. “And hey, at least I didn’t totally fuck up the buttercream. That should at least count for something right?”

He watched as Kevin plunged a finger into the icing, gathering a generous scoop onto the tip before putting it in his mouth and sucking it clean. 

Connor swallowed, his eyes flitting down to Kevin’s mouth without his permission. Oh, boy.

If Kevin caught onto his distraction (which he almost certainly did), he did a great job of playing dumb, sticking his finger back into the bowl to grab another scoop. He cleaned it off even slower this time, pulling his finger out from his shiny, wet lips with a soft _pop._ Connor grabbed at the edge of the counter. 

“Wanna try it?” Kevin’s voice was suddenly low and soft, his eyes raised to Connor’s from beneath his stupidly-ridiculous long lashes. It was all Connor could do to manage a nod. 

He accepted Kevin’s finger -- and, you know, the frosting of course -- readily into his mouth, closing his lips around it, and he watched the way Kevin’s eyes grew soft, his breathing changing just enough to be perceptible as Connor swirled his tongue around it, wiping it clean. 

“Your turn,” Connor said, his voice thick. 

This time, he dipped his own finger into the frosting and brought it to Kevin’s lips. The feeling of his mouth nearly brought him to his knees. And if that didn’t do the job, looking down and seeing the obvious bulge in the front of Kevin’s shorts would have. 

Something shifted between them in the blink of an eye.

A single step forward was all it took to press Kevin back into the edge of the counter, his hips pinning him in place. Connor’s hands flattened against the smooth countertop, flour sticking to his palms and arms braced on either side of him as he leaned into Kevin’s space, his lips brushing against his jaw with a teasing, barely-there pressure. The corner of his mouth twitched up as Kevin’s lips parted, a low, helpless sound in the back of his throat. Responsive as ever. 

“You know, you’re not even supposed to be out of bed after hours,” Connor chided as he brought his lips to his ear, pausing to swipe the tip of his tongue over his lobe. Kevin’s sharp intake of breath was enough to encourage him. “Mission rules.”

He could feel Kevin’s stomach muscles quivering lightly in anticipation, his breathing already starting to grow labored under his touch. Connor’s body reacted immediately, as always intoxicated by his ability to have such a blatant effect on his boyfriend. 

“Sorry, Elder McKinley.”

Connor’s lips curved into a smile at the use of the title. So _that’s_ how they were playing this. A trickle of heat spread down his core, and he slid his foot forward, wedging his right thigh between Kevin’s. He was pretty sure he could have finished up right then and there from the unmistakable show of arousal he felt beneath Kevin’s briefs. 

“Rules are there for a reason, Elder Price.” He pressed a kiss to Kevin’s throat, feeling him melt a little bit at the awaited contact. Then another, reaching that spot just below his jaw that Connor knew drove him insane. Right on cue, Kevin tilted his head back, giving him full access to his neck. “Being out of bed this late is just asking for trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Kevin’s voice was reduced to a whisper. 

Slowly, Connor lifted a flour-covered palm from the counter, tracing it slowly up Kevin’s spine. He shuddered under the featherlight touch of his fingertips, and Connor paused when he reached the nape of his neck, twirling an overgrown lock of hair between his fingers before he switched abruptly, tugging Kevin’s head back with a fistful of his hair. Immediately, Kevin’s eyes fell shut, his jaw going slack. 

“I think you know exactly what kind.” He brought his free hand up to slide beneath the hem of his t-shirt, pressing flat against his stomach. The feeling of his quickened breathing under his palm told him he was enjoying this every bit as much as Connor was. “In fact, I think you might have been looking for it yourself.”

Kevin’s hand came up to grasp at his shoulder. Connor watched as his throat bobbed with a thick swallow.

“I see the way you look at me, Elder Price,” he continued, the stroke of his thumb raising goosebumps across Kevin’s abdomen. “I think... I think, maybe, you were hoping I would come out here and find you.” 

He released the grip on Kevin’s hair only to bring his hand down parallel with the other, smoothing both of them around his sides and up his back, then scratching down with light fingernails. Kevin shuddered against him, his temple falling forward to rest against Connor’s. 

“Is that true?” Connor goaded. 

Kevin pressed his hips forward in response, grinding into Connor’s thigh with a low hum in the back of his throat. Connor smiled. 

“Words, Elder Price.” He pulled back, placing two fingers under Kevin’s chin to direct his gaze to his and… 

Holy hell. 

Kevin’s eyes were dark and glassy and blown out with pure, unadulterated _wanting,_ and the sight alone had all the blood in Connor’s body rushing south. It was an extremely special thing to him, each time he was able to bring Kevin into this headspace. Connor was well aware that exploring his sexuality hadn’t been very easy on Kevin for a multitude of reasons, and it had taken a lot of trial and error, a lot of missteps and blind navigation, to get to the point they were at now, where Kevin found himself able to open up this vulnerable side of him that no one else got to see. It was something he reserved for Connor alone, for the two of them together, flipping an invisible switch to a side of himself that was so different from the confident, outspoken Kevin Price that everyone knew. 

The trust that Kevin was so willing (and so often eager) to hand over to Connor was something he didn’t take for granted. And something he would never squander the opportunity to indulge when Kevin’s… _needs_ arose.

“Yes, Elder McKinley.”

Connor turned the grip on his chin just slightly so that he could graze the pad of his thumb over Kevin’s bottom lip. His mouth opened obediently under the touch and closed softly around his finger, his eyes smoldering as they stayed locked into his. It was Connor’s turn to press his hips forward, urging himself to stay in control. He withdrew his thumb and trailed the moisture down Kevin’s chin, resettling his grasp lightly around his throat, pinching just beneath where he could feel his pulse points beating rapidly beneath his fingertips. 

“That’s what I thought,” Connor mused, tightening his grip just long enough to watch Kevin squirm pleasantly at the sensation. “Am I going to have to show you what happens when you sneak out of bed past curfew?” 

The desperate sound Kevin made as Connor brushed his thumb over the sensitive spot on his chest was probably the closest to a proper response he could manage in his state, so Connor decided to show mercy and give him what he wanted. He pressed forward, capturing his lips in a slow, steady movement, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him flush against his body. Kevin’s arms circled immediately up and around his neck and shoulders, reciprocating the kiss with every bit of hunger he’d had the first time they’d touched. 

As the kiss deepened, Kevin’s body responded in exactly the way Connor had come to expect; a live wire under his touch, back arching, hips rolling into his leg in an increasingly steady rhythm. Connor tightened the arm that held him close and slipped the other one between them, trailing slowly, teasingly, down Kevin’s chest, over the thin patch of hair below his navel, to the waistband of his briefs. He paused a moment, letting his fingers play with the elastic as he gave Kevin a moment to use his safeword. When he responded only by tightening his fist in Connor’s curls, Connor smiled into the kiss and slipped his hand into his shorts. 

Kevin’s mouth fell open against Connor’s, a loud, throaty moan vibrating against his skin. Instantly, Connor brought his free hand up and pressed it firmly against Kevin’s mouth, muffling the back half of the sound with his palm. 

“Shhh,” he chided, unable to keep the hint of a smile out of his expression as he did so. His hand continued in its slow, steady movements without pause, and Kevin continued to fall apart under his touch. “We wouldn’t want to wake the others, would we?”

The noise that Kevin made on the other side of his palm sounded like some unhinged variation of “no,” which Connor would accept under the circumstances. 

“Right,” Connor breathed. “So if you want me to keep going, that means you’re going to have to keep quiet for me, yeah?”

Kevin, struggling to comply with this instruction already, let out a particularly sharp cry as Connor’s wrist twisted just the right way, jerking forward into his grip. Connor tsked disapprovingly, halting his strokes completely to pin Kevin’s hips still against the counter’s edge with one hand, earning a soft whine of frustration. 

“If you can’t be quiet, I’m going to have to leave you like this,” Connor threatened, not meaning a single damn word of it but thrilled nonetheless when Kevin’s eyes lifted pleadingly up to his. He removed his palm from Kevin’s mouth just long enough to cradle his cheek instead. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

Kevin nodded helplessly beneath his fingertips. 

“Yeah,” Connor repeated. “So can you do that? Can you be good and stay quiet for me?”

His boyfriend was practically buzzing at this point, gripping onto the lip of the counter for stability as he buckled under Connor’s words. They had spent enough of their down time _exploring_ this side of their relationship over the past year that Connor knew exactly which words to use to stir up the perfect response in Kevin, and he planned to play his cards to that advantage. And apparently it was working, because Kevin nodded again, a full-body shiver running through him.

“Perfect,” Connor murmured, knowing exactly what he was doing when Kevin’s hips bucked forward against his restraining hand at the words. 

Without further ado, Connor went back to his slow, even strokes beneath his waistband, taking utter delight in the way Kevin immediately struggled to uphold Connor’s commands. He kept his eyes wide open, transfixed by the sight of Kevin biting down on his bottom lip to keep quiet, a deep crease of concentration forming between his brows. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” Connor whispered, leaning forward to touch his forehead to Kevin’s, soft puffs of his labored breathing warm against his lips in the close proximity. “Being so quiet for me.”

It was sort of cruel and he knew it, Kevin almost slipping up at the praise, so Connor saved him by pressing their lips together again before he could make any more sound. 

There was something so inherently erotic (and horrifyingly unsanitary, in any coherent state of mind) to be doing this in the relative-public of the shared kitchen, mere yards away from where the rest of their fellow ex-missionaries slept behind paper-thin walls. Of course, Connor would probably, maybe quite literally, die from mortification if any of them were to walk out and catch them by chance, but Kevin had him under some kind of fucking spell. He had since the day they met. And in this case, the sound of his struggled attempts of suppressed moans, the rhythm of his hips meeting Connor’s hand, the desperate tremors running through his body, made it impossible to care about anything else in the world at that moment.

When Connor slipped his fingers underneath his shirt once again, trailing back to his chest, Kevin’s movements shifted into something more urgent, meeting Connor’s hand for each stroke. 

“Connor,” he strained brokenly, barely above a whisper. One hand gripped tighter at the lip of the counter, the other clamping down on Connor’s shoulder for support. “Connor, please—”

Connor just barely had time to whisper his approval before Kevin was jerking forward, once, twice, three times, his mouth falling open in a silent cry. He slowed his movements as Kevin started to come down, the physical release of tension evident in the way his body slumped forward against him, working him through the last of it. Connor pulled away when he felt him shudder at the overstimulation, slipping his hand out from under the elastic. He grabbed the soiled cloth from the countertop behind Kevin and wiped his hand clean before circling his arms lazily around Kevin’s neck, bringing their foreheads back together.

They stood there for a moment in the quiet aftermath, arms around each other, both of them regaining control of their breathing.

“You alright?” Connor checked in, tilting in to plant a kiss against Kevin’s sweat-sticky temple. 

Kevin nodded, still not fully keen on speaking yet, and instead pulled him into another kiss. It was slow and sweet this time, and it was Connor’s turn to melt.

“I love you,” he said when he pulled away, and Connor was nearly knocked backward by the sudden, intense earnestness in his eyes. 

“I love you, too, Kev.” 

The strain in Connor’s own pajama pants had been steadily increasing since he first pushed Kevin back against the counter, but he didn’t have any expectation for Kevin to return the favor that had been freely given. Instead, he shook off the lust-induced haze that had settled over him like dust, surveying the absolute garbage fire of Kevin’s post-baking kitchen. 

“Oh boy,” he whispered, stepping around Kevin to retrieve a fresh towel from under the sink so he could start wiping shit down, but he stopped short when a hand grabbed him by the elastic of his pants, playfully tugging him backward. He spun around to find a mischievous grin on Kevin’s face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Kevin cocked an eyebrow, and Connor mirrored the expression, featuring around at the flour-covered countertops.

“Uh, to clean up this mess?” Connor half-asked. 

Then, before he could ask any further questions, Kevin had him pushed up against the same counter lip he had just been gripping moments ago, and he sank to his knees on the tile. 

Once again… holy hell. 

“Kevin, you don’t have to—” He stopped short as Kevin gripped the waistband of his pants, pulling them down to his knees in one, smooth motion. 

Kevin smirked. “Remind me again what you said about being quiet?”

He took one last glance at the kitchen, then at his boyfriend’s wide, adoring eyes staring up at him, and decided the mess could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this, no you didn't. Don't look at me.


End file.
